


Angel Eyes

by macgyvershe



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A request from Sweet_Summer_Child, Doctor John Watson, Fluffy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Quick Shot, Sherlock is adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:40:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24670192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macgyvershe/pseuds/macgyvershe
Summary: A sprained ankle. The Transport speaks. Sherlock has to listen. John takes charge. Things get done. Fluffy stuff
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Angel Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sweet_summer_child](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweet_summer_child/gifts).



> Sweet_Summer_Child hope you like this quick shot written at your suggestion.

John exited the cab, hurriedly paying the driver. Turning to help Sherlock out. 

“Remember no weight on it now, yeah.” 

Sherlock, his right ankle wrapped, lets John take most of his weight as his doctor maneuvers his injured foot out of the cab.

“I can barely move without pain, John. I think my transport has made itself perfectly clear.”

Hopping along to get up the one step just to access the front door; Sherlock is stifling his cries of pain with every move. Inside, the door closed, John looks at the stairs that must be traversed to get to their apartment. 

Sherlock looks up the same few steps that he used to vault up. Now a staggering tower that will cause him more and more and more pain with each jerking movement. Taking a deep breath, Sherlock sags against John, his eyes closed in dreaded anticipation.

John makes a quick, easy decision. Positioning himself in front of Sherlock. “Nothing for it then.” He easily lifts Sherlock over his good shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

Sherlock gives a squeak of surprise.

Gently and with great care, John mounts the stairs. Moving up and into the apartment. He by passes the couch and heads straight for Sherlock’s bedroom. Softly, setting Sherlock on his good foot, John rapidly removes the Belstaff, flinging it onto a near by chair. He then lowers Sherlock onto the surface of his bed. Lifting and swing his legs on the bed as well as placing several pillows under the injured right leg to elevate it.

Sherlock sighs back into his pillows. Happy to have make the journey with no pain whatsoever. He looks up into the eyes his friend, flatmate and someone altogether more than any of those words can convey.

“My mobile, John. I want to put it on the charge.”

John digs into the pocket of the Belstaff to find the mobile. Flinging it at Sherlock who snatches it out of the air, to plug it into the charger at his bedside table.

John goes to the kitchen, returning with a glass of water and a bottle of paracetamol. Sherlock gives his ‘can’t I have something stronger little boy look’. John tilts his head in an affirmative no expression.

“Budge over,” John requests as he places the water close. Helping move Sherlock’s leg, he sits next to his injured soulmate. “Please don’t tell me you are bored.” John says as he drops several paracetamol into Sherlock’s outstretched hand.

“John, I’m bored already.” Sherlock smiles from under his curly fringe of hair. His large beatific eyes shine a silver – blue with touches of mirth in them. His full lips tilting into a not-seen-often-enough smile. He reaches out to hold John’s hand.

John reaches up to ruffle the already chaotic mass of silky rampant curls. Letting his hand slide down, he caresses the ivory cheek of Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock’s beauty, his regal grace, his angel eyes, thinks John, fill his heart with a devoted love that no mere mortal will ever experience.


End file.
